


101 things (and more)

by ephemeralsky



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: BokuAka Week, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, and i continue to abuse the usage of parentheses, bokuakaweek, so much fluff i'm gonna eat a hundred lemons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 12:43:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4835825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralsky/pseuds/ephemeralsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were a lot of things that Bokuto didn’t know about at first.</p><p>Bokuto didn’t know that Akaashi’s fair skin would glow white in the blistering light of the sun, or that he had a mole right on his shoulder blade, and this discovery sent Bokuto on a covert mission to find and catalogue all the beauty spots that mark Akaashi’s body; freckles, blemishes, moles and all.</p><p> </p><p>(or: Bokuto thinks of the things that he used to not know about Akaashi, and how he has come to know some of them and embrace them all)</p><p> <br/>((Written for BokuAka week, with the prompt "First Meetings."))</p>
            </blockquote>





	101 things (and more)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bokuaka week. (Day 2: First Meetings)

There were a lot of things that Bokuto didn’t know about at first.

When they first met, Bokuto was running towards the school gate, and from a distance, he could see that it was already closed, and he cursed as he skidded to a stop. From the other direction, Akaashi walked at a lax pace, stopping when he saw Bokuto trying to scale the high iron gate.

Bokuto’s foot slipped and he fell back on the ground with a grunt. He gave the gate a kick before he threw his head back, eyes screwed shut and hands clutching his hair. “I can’t believe I’m late for the first day of my second year!! The same thing happened last year too!” Bokuto sometimes felt that the iron gate was built to be too tall, but he understood why; the school probably wouldn’t like it if the students can escape the place so easily.

Then he sighed heavily, turning to Akaashi, and said, “Well, at least I’m not alone.”

That was the first time his eyes had fallen on Akaashi Keiji.

Bokuto didn’t know that that infinitesimal moment was going to be a turning point in his life.

(Akaashi was a bit scrawny, but he was quite tall and stood straight. He had hooded, black eyes and swirly jet-black hair that barely licked the nape of his neck, and he had nicely sculpted cheekbones, made more prominent by the bangs that framed his face. Objectively, he was rather attractive.)

Akaashi hummed and said, “I didn’t think the gate would be locked this early.”

(His voice was smooth and gravelly, falling on a deeper note that one would expect.)

Bokuto cocked his head to one side. “You’re a freshman?”

Akaashi nodded, but his eyes, calculating and focused, were geared towards the top of the gate.

“You sure have some guts to be late on the first day!” Bokuto continued, laughing, “Well, the welcoming ceremony is boring anyway, so we’re lucky to be spared of that, at least.”

(At that time, he didn’t know that Akaashi was late because he was taking pictures of a cat that was on a branch of a sakura tree on the way to school.)

Akaashi looked at him and calmly said, “Try climbing the gate again.”

Bokuto gave him a bewildered look.

“If we want to make it in time, you need to start climbing.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “Now.”

“Okay…?” Bokuto readjusted the bag on his shoulder and placed a foot against the metal structure, hands gripping the bars as he tried to hoist himself up even higher. He almost fell again when he felt a boost up his leg, and before he could even process what was happening, he was propelled onto the other side, falling on the ground with a yelp, his bottom cushioning the landing. Still sitting on the ground, he looked at the other side of the gate, blinking when he saw that Akaashi had taken a few steps backwards and he looked as if he was ready to –

“Dude! Are you going to –”

Akaashi broke into a sprint and jumped over the gate, and in that moment – that short period of time when he was airborne – Bokuto had stared, open-mouthed and breathless, enraptured by a figure that appeared to be _flying_ , and he had felt _something,_ but it was a dormant sensation that he wouldn’t be able to identify until much, much later.

(Akaashi landed gracefully, knees bent, and offered a hand to help Bokuto get on his feet. Bokuto, still in a daze, had forgotten to ask his name, and only remembered when they had already parted ways during the assembly to join the agglomeration of the other students according to their respective years.)

When they first met, Bokuto didn’t know that Akaashi would join the volleyball club, and he was so ecstatic to see him in the gym that he finished running 20 laps in record time and did approximately “a jillion” perfect killer spikes, executing a jillion more when he found out that Akaashi was a setter and paired up with him for the rest of practice. Bokuto didn’t know that he would meet someone who, despite his customary look of apathy and resignation, would be able to match his stamina and stay up to par with his speed, in addition to possessing the patience to deal with his boisterous (and charismatic) personality.

(He also never thought that he would meet someone who could deal with his mood swings, especially when that someone always wore a cold and distant demeanor, but soon enough he knew that Akaashi was warm and _real_ and so much more.)

Bokuto didn’t know that Akaashi was the type that liked to stay awake until late into the night, when the sky was unfathomably dark and vast and the air was still and quiet, and everything felt vulnerable and transient that it could dissipate with the slightest disturbance, and Akaashi would bask in the atmosphere, reading and writing and _existing_.    

(Bokuto found out about this when he tactlessly asked why Akaashi habitually had dark circles around his eyes, and in spite of them, he looked serene and content.)

(During lunchtime, after eating some onigiri, Akaashi could be found sleeping in his seat by the window, arms folded on the desk and cheek smushed on the crook of his elbow, expression peaceful.)

Bokuto didn’t know that Akaashi needed a dose of caffeine in his bloodstream before he could function optimally like a regular human being, and he had the misfortune of being a witness and victim of a lethal and slaughterous Akaashi, dangerously unsupplied with any form of caffeinated drink and mercilessly virulent, his patience thin and brittle as a twig and eyes twitching when even the smallest of things would inject shots of annoyance in every fiber of his being.

(Bokuto correspondingly discovered that Akaashi took his coffee with a spoonful of honey, and he liked his tea without any sugar.)

Bokuto didn’t know that Akaashi liked punk rock music as well as ballads, and he had a field day hooting and cawing as he sifted through the list of songs in Akaashi’s ipod, and proceeded to grin dopily when Akaashi, after going through Bokuto’s music player himself, begrudgingly admitted that Bokuto’s taste in music was rather refined.

(During a karaoke session with their teammates, Bokuto found out that Akaashi had a soothing singing voice, the susurrant, honeyed ripple of his voice calming like the touch of a warm hand and enchanting like the melody of a well-loved hymn. For their thirteenth Fukurodani VBC Singing Face-off, Akaashi placed second, behind Onaga who emerged as the victor when he impeccably belted out a classic enka song.)

Bokuto didn’t know that Akaashi’s fair skin would glow white in the blistering light of the sun, or that he had a mole right on his shoulder blade, and this discovery sent Bokuto on a covert mission to find and catalogue all the beauty spots that mark Akaashi’s body; freckles, blemishes, moles and all.

Bokuto knew that Akaashi would be the sort of stoic person that didn’t laugh very often, but God, when he did – knuckles brought up against his mouth as he tries and fails to suppress his smile, laughter tumbling past his lips, the corner of his eyes crinkled  – Bokuto felt the air knocked out of his lungs and the violent fluttering bubbles that gurgle in his stomach, and he never thought that he would feel that flustered and infatuated and _elated_ over someone else’s smile and laughter.

Bokuto didn’t know that Akaashi had an inclination towards polka dot socks, or that he had dozens of them, and when he did find out, he had bent over and giggled for 5 minutes straight, much to Akaashi’s irascibility and embarrassment, but when his laughter simmered down he had pointed to his feet that were clad in striped socks, and informed Akaashi that he was crazy about stripes, especially the ones with bizarre, contrasting colors.

(Akaashi would squat down when he was putting on his socks, rolling them down and pulling them from his toes over his feet until they reached his ankles. He also wore his kneepads starting with the left leg first, bending over and dragging his forefinger around the back of his knee where the elastic had folded under.)

Bokuto didn’t know that Akaashi’s favorite season was autumn, when the leaves had turned into a rustic, golden brown and fallen off the tress in a dance that made Akaashi’s lips curl upwards in the slightest yet authentic smile, and that he had a high tolerance for cold weathers, even though his cheeks and nose would get red, and the expression he wore when Bokuto gave him a knitted scarf for his sixteenth birthday was one of pure happiness and Bokuto decided that winters weren’t so bad after all.

Bokuto didn’t know that Akaashi had the tendency to frown when he was sad, his eyebrows drawn together and knitted over the ridge of his nose, his lips pressed tightly, quivering ever so often, or that he had the disposition to swallow down his anger, letting it fester right underneath the surface precariously, his hands furled into fists at his sides, shoulders tensed, but his face, a mask of utter calm and indifference and incongruent with the rest of his physical gestures, masqueraded his quiet rage.   

(Bokuto didn't know that Akaashi was prone to get headaches sometimes because he forgot to take off his contact lenses and even though his eyesight wasn't that bad, Akaashi had to resort to wearing reading glasses when he's studying, and occasionally there would be days where he would come to school without wearing his contacts and he would have to squint when Bokuto's pointing at random objects that piqued his interests.) 

Bokuto didn’t know that Akaashi used orchid-scented hand lotion and shampoo that smelled like plums and vanilla-flavored lip balms, and that he had lithe fingers and cool hands that were marred with callouses but still pleasant to touch, and Bokuto didn’t know that those hands would fit perfectly against his, fingers slotted snugly between his own when intertwined.

Bokuto didn’t know that Akaashi had taken after his mother in terms of appearances; soft black hair and beautiful onyx eyes and supple fair skin, but she was bubbly and open and somewhat airheaded, and she loved Keiji with all her being and existence.

(Bokuto met his father later on, and discovered that Akaashi had inherited his personality; sharp tongue, acuminous wit and all, as well as his fierce love towards the woman that nurtured and protected the Akaashi household.)

Bokuto didn’t think that he would meet someone who could scowl so prettily, or who would grimace and sigh but still give in and put up with his wild antics and childish ministrations, who would continue on sticking by his side even though he knew that his rambunctiousness could drive anyone up the wall at times.

Bokuto didn’t know that he was going to be addicted to how Akaashi would turn away and smile while tucking his bangs behind his ear when Bokuto successfully delivered the punchlines to his stupid jokes, which, going by his awful record, didn’t happen very often.

Bokuto didn’t know that Akaashi had this habit of pulling and tugging on his fingers until they make a pop sound, or how he absentmindedly rubbed and kneaded them when he’s standing and talking, because he liked to always have something to do with his hands, and Bokuto found this to be endearing, and he constantly told him of this when he’s taping Akaashi’s fingers before volleyball practice and matches.

Bokuto didn't expect Akaashi to be the type of person that liked to cuddle; there would be incidents where Bokuto wouldn't be able to leave the bed in the mornings because Akaashi had his arms wrapped around his torso, head buried in the crook of his neck, his breathing even, and Bokuto would derive contentment just from watching him sleep. 

(Akaashi sometimes dozed off during bus and train rides, head bobbing as he fought to stay awake, but soon enough he would give in to sleep and his head would fall on Bokuto's shoulder, his hair tickling Bokuto's jaw, and Bokuto would smile and rest his cheek on top of Akaashi's head as he too allowed sleep to wash over him.)

Bokuto didn’t know that he would become so enthralled with Akaashi’s blunt and sarcastic words, dry humor, witty remarks, and beautiful mind that framed windows to ways of seeing the world in angles that Bokuto never thought he’d be able to before, or that he would become so beguiled by Akaashi’s genuine kindness that he’d only display in certain moments that call for it, and how he’s constantly there for Bokuto during his ups and downs and Bokuto knew that he could lean on him and never worry about falling down.

There were a hundred-and-one things that Bokuto didn’t know about, but after discovering them and burning them into his mind and searing them into his heart, he knew that he would continue finding out a hundred-and-one things and more about Akaashi, and he knew that he would love them all.     

 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm a simple potato who can't write for shit but my love for the bokuaka is too strong
> 
> come and talk to me at http://nakasomethingkun.tumblr.com/ :DDDDD


End file.
